What were you and Jason's relationship? You both weren't dating, but at the same time you were. It was confusing. Sometimes you're a stranger in his bed. How is that? Sometimes you may want him, and sometimes you'd want him dead. Push him away, kick him out but turn around and ask for forgiveness, wanting him to stay.

The calls he gets at 5 in the morning, you apologizing for kicking him out or stalling on him. The lies, the pretty lies that come from you just gives him butterflies. It's wrong, but he loves the lies, he loves how you can change so quickly.

You fought so dirty, so gruesome, yet you were perfect. You had a sweet and pretty way of talking, of getting people to swoon. But your heart--your heart was cold, frozen with razor sharp teeth ready to eat away at someone else's heart. Who knew it'd be Jason's heart.

Some days you were Jason's absolute world, everything he'd ever want in another person, sometimes when he looked at you, he saw you walking down the aisle, a ring on your finger, but those thoughts and images always get crushed when you changed, when you kicked him out again.

Jason stood in the rain, blood staining his favorite shirt. Was that a rose in his hand? And why were you looking at him like you didn't know him? You looked back up at the blood, then back at his hand. The rose--once beautiful and a sign of love, was now a heart. It was still beating, how gruesome yet so--delicate.

He knew it was wrong, pathetic to go and beg for you to let him in just to be kicked out again, to be back in your bed, pleasing you, then getting kicked out again. It was a whirlpool of unknown emotions, unknown wants and needs. Jason couldn't go to his family about the situation, they'd just tell him the same thing. "Leave." But Jason didn't wanna leave, why should he?